Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2015
Sometimes I’ll be in the rain on a Sunday
with the wind in my face and my hair in my face
and the future in my face
screaming for me to run towards it,
but the fog is too much, the wind is too much
and I’ll want to stop for a moment, to stop forever-
The howl of the future turns into a song
the wind changes direction and pushes me on,
suddenly there’s laughing and lightning and love
there’s late nights and coffee and burning and sun
there’s music and dancing
there’s memories and forgetting
there’s all of it together
none of it bad
none of it good
all of it there
telling me to run, like there’s no other answer
like if I don’t it’ll only come faster
like if I smile it’ll only be better
so I put on my coat and I change up my face
and I run.
Martha O'Brien
Written by
Martha O'Brien  UK
Please log in to view and add comments on poems